*Seriously, what the heck?* Skull Mask thought to himself as he sat in the worn interior of the caravan, a cup of tea in his gloved hand. The caravan, though aged and rough around the edges, had a certain practicality to it. The wooden walls were scuffed and scratched, with shelves that held various knick-knacks, some tools, and a few personal belongings. A small table in the center had been bolted to the floor, surrounded by mismatched chairs that looked like they had been scavenged from different places. The whole space had a lived-in feel, with blankets and clothes hanging from hooks, and a few bunk beds built into the walls on either side.
"Would ya like something else?" One of the men, whom Skull Mask had initially pegged as a bandit, asked with a crooked smile. The man had a hatchet hanging from his waist, and his eyes had a glint of mischief.
"Nah, this is fine," Skull Mask replied, waving off the offer. The man shrugged and turned to Sarandel, who was seated across from Skull Mask, her posture regal despite the cramped quarters.
"Anything for you?" Hatchet Man asked Sarandel, his tone a little more polite.
"No, thank you. This is enough," Sarandel replied, motioning to the tea she held. Hatchet Man nodded and moved over to one of the bunk beds, sitting down beside one of his companions, a man with a dagger.
"You two are lucky we found ya. The closest city is about an hour away on this thing," Dagger Man said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly.
From the front of the caravan, a voice yelled out, "This thing has a name!" It was the driver, clearly offended by the casual reference to the vehicle.
Dagger Man rolled his eyes. "I swear, his hearing gets sharper whenever we talk about this thi—I mean, Droveck."
Skull Mask gave a nod, trying to blend in. "Yeah, thanks for that," he said, carefully lifting his mask just enough to reveal his smooth, unblemished jaw and mouth. He took a sip of the tea, but immediately recoiled in disgust. "Good god, that's some bitter tea!" he exclaimed, quickly pulling the mask back down.
The room fell silent as everyone stared at him, their expressions a mix of confusion and suspicion.
"What?" Skull Mask asked, his tone defensive.
One of the men, who had a mace resting beside him, spoke up. "Well, it's just that you said god instead of goddess."
*Crap,* Skull Mask thought, realizing his slip. Before he could come up with an excuse, Sarandel spoke up smoothly.
"Sorry about my colleague," she said, taking a sip of her tea without even flinching at the bitterness. "He's a bit touched in the head."
A vein in Skull Mask's temple throbbed at the remark, but he held his tongue.
"Explains why he's wearing a skull mask," muttered the last man, who had a bow slung across his back.
Skull Mask clenched his teeth beneath the mask, but kept his composure, knowing that Sarandel's quick thinking had likely saved them from more scrutiny.
"Anyway, you all need to work on your image because, right now, you look like bandits," Skull Mask said bluntly, placing the tea down in an attempt to shift the conversation. The men bristled at the remark, their expressions turning sour.
"We can't change the way we look!" Bow Man snapped, his tone sharp.
"Yeah, we don't got no coin to melt like you clearly do, pal," spat Mace Man, glaring at Skull Mask.
Skull Mask gave them an annoyed look from under his mask before gesturing toward Sarandel. "What about her? She's dressed in pretty expensive-looking clothing, and yet you're all targeting me?" he said, his irritation clear.
Sarandel rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything, Hatchet Man jumped in. "She's a pretty lady, she can dress however she wants," he said, as if that settled the matter.
"Wow, that's just straight-up sexist," Skull Mask shot back. "And if being pretty is the criteria for dressing however you want, then if I took off my mask, you four would be fawning over me too."
The men exchanged looks, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.
"Yeah, no. We're only into ladies. You could be the most handsome man in history, and it still wouldn't matter to us," Bow Man said, crossing his arms defiantly.
Skull Mask leaned back, his posture suddenly shifting to something more graceful and feminine. "Oh, really?" she? drawled, her? tone now undeniably more feminine.
"Huh?" All four men stared at him, their confusion evident.
Sarandel made a contemplative "Hmm," sound, watching the exchange with growing interest.
"Who says I'm a man under here?" Skull Mask continued, her? voice and body language now fully feminine, as if the transformation was effortless.
Mace Man's eyes widened in shock. "Holy shit, are you actually a hot lady under there?"
But just as quickly as the shift had occurred, Skull Mask's demeanor reverted. "Of course not, I'm just screwing with you," he said, his voice back to normal, a smirk playing on his lips.
All four men glared at him, clearly annoyed. "Asshole, playing with our hearts!" Dagger Man exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration.
Skull Mask just shrugged, looking away cheekily. "I just talked to you a little, nothing more," he said smugly, which only seemed to irritate them further.
Sarandel watched Skull Mask with a contemplative gaze. She realized that she didn't actually know X's true gender, having never seen X without the mask or out of that noble outfit. The remark, "Who says I'm a man under here?" rang true for her as well. Originally, she had disliked the idea of exploring Aetheria with X, but now it seemed like the perfect opportunity to learn more about him—and why he was so intent on coming here personally.